


Buttons

by ZombieBabs



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: #GiftsForTallPaul2016, Blow Jobs, F/M, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieBabs/pseuds/ZombieBabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex helps Richard with his buttons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buttons

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift fic for the Unsoundaversary!

Alex laughs when she sees him.

“What?” Strand asks, looking down at himself.

He’s wearing a heather grey T-shirt, something she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to seeing him in, with a plaid flannel shirt buttoned over it. Except that the buttons have been done up crooked.

“Your buttons. Did you get dressed in the dark this morning?”

He frowns.

Alex takes pity on him. “Here, let me help you.”

He doesn’t move away from her as she steps into his personal space, but his whole body tenses at her closeness.

Alex feels a thrill of _something_ at the allowance. She can feel the warmth radiating from him as her fingers make quick work of unbuttoning his shirt. “Here’s the problem. You’re missing a button.”

He starts to shrug out of it, but Alex stops him with a hand on his chest. A spark of heat goes through her at her own boldness. In the year that she’s known him, she’s never disrespected the distance he tends to keep between himself and others. She doesn’t quite know what’s come over her, but she revels in the fact that he hasn’t yet pushed her away. Strand looks down at her, pupils large in the dim light of her office.

“I can fix it. I’ve got a sewing kit in my desk.”

Strand swallows, then nods.

She rummages around in her desk, finally pulling out a small kit. She threads a needle, squinting as she pokes the thread through the eye, and ties it off. Her kit has a few small buttons, none of them matching the ones on his shirt, but they’ll do in a pinch. She takes the one that looks closest in size and holds it up for his inspection.

“I didn't know you could sew.”

“I can’t. Not really. But buttons are something I can do.”

She steps into his space once more. Strand suddenly looks nervous. “Shouldn’t I take this off? Won’t it be easier for you--”

She smiles. “Keep it on. I promise not to poke any holes in you.”

Alex can feel his eyes on her as she starts to work. She tips his head up with a finger under his chin, convincing herself that it’s only so she can have room to pull the thread through the fabric.

He laughs. She notices that he relaxes, a little, as he does so.

Beyond a handshake between colleagues, Alex wonders how long it’s been since he let another person touch him. Or let his guard down long enough for someone to even try.

When she pushes the needle up through one of the holes in the button, she can feel him move, watching her. Without a word, she tips his head up again and pulls the needle through.

It doesn’t take long to finish sewing on the button. After she knots it, she takes the scissors from her kit and snips the extra thread away. But she doesn’t move away from him.

“Alex?” he says, voice pitched impossibly low.

She tells herself that she’s just going to button up his shirt, to test her handiwork. But her hand finds it’s way back to his chest.

He’s breathing much faster now, his chest rising under her fingers with unsteady breaths. 

“Can I kiss you?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says, surprising her with how desperate he sounds.

He has to bend to meet her, but she surges up until her mouth is on his. Strand lets her take control, only moving his hands to her waist to help her keep her balance. She tilts her head for better access and, after a moment, dips her tongue between his lips. He groans, but lets her inside to taste him. 

Alex’s hands slide up his chest, over the T-shirt, nails scraping against sensitive nipples.

He breaks away from the kiss with a strangled sound, steps back and away from her with sudden panic in his eyes. Her eyes can’t help but take in the sight of him, looking absolutely wrecked. He’s hard, erection straining against the denim of his jeans. He can’t meet her eyes, saying, “It’s, ah, it’s been a long time. For me. I apologize.”

“Does that mean you don’t want it?” she asks. She moves forward, but he seems to be frozen to the spot.

“I--what?”

Alex reaches for the button on his jeans. “Is this okay? Do you want this?”

He laughs, “It’s not about what I want.”

She smiles. “It is, actually. That’s why I’m asking.”

He takes a ragged breath, closes his eyes and nods.

“Tell me. I want to hear it.”

“Please. Please, Alex. I want--” 

His words trail off as she pops the button on his jeans, unzips them, and drags both the denims and his boxer briefs down in one smooth motion. She drops to her knees, giving him a wicked smile, before taking him in her hand.

He curses, the word all but dragged out of him. His eyes lock on hers, watching her as she strokes him. Experimentally, she kisses the tip of his cock, tongue darting out to catch the drop of precome that beads there. Strand inhales, quick and sharp.

She smiles again and licks a wide stripe up the underside of his shaft, before taking him into her mouth.

Strand curses again, hips bucking a little. “I’m not--I’m not going to last long.”

Alex does her best to make it count, taking him down as far as she comfortably can while stroking the rest of him with a firm grip. His hands come to rest in her hair, but only to tangle in the dark brown strands of it.

“Alex,” he warns. 

She pulls off, stroking him hard and fast with her hand. His cool blue eyes stare down into hers. She watches as he falls apart, as his hips jerk erratically, as he finally spills himself over her hand with a groan. 

Alex grabs tissue from her desk and carefully cleans the both of them. She rights his underwear and jeans, tucking him away before standing back up. Her knees are sore from the cold linoleum of her office floor, but she doesn’t mind.

“Do you want--I would like to return--”

She kisses him, cutting him off. He relaxes into it, cupping her chin and tasting himself on her lips. “Next time,” she says.

He looks surprised, as if he hadn't expected there to be a next time. Alex grins and kisses him again, biting at his bottom lip in promise.


End file.
